


Blue Eyes

by Goodknight (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Beheading, Eye Gouging, Gore, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-25
Updated: 2012-07-25
Packaged: 2017-11-10 16:50:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Goodknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave doesn't think John really loves him, and he's tired of John seeing how pathetic he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Eyes

John invited Dave into his apartment smiling, taking him by the hand and bending to peck him on the cheek. "I didn't think you were coming over tonight!" He laughed. "Don't wear your shoes in the house, dude, you'll wreck my awesome carpets." His eyes were sparkling. 

Dave snorted. "These threads may as well be between Paris Hilton's legs." He mumbled, flicking his ankles so his shoes flew off his feet and hit the wall with a thwack.

"Gross!" John laughed and walked into the kitchen, away from his boyfriend. "I hope you already ate, because I didn't make you any dinner." There was a pause as Dave watched him from against the wall. "Are you going to say anything? I normally can't make you shut up. Not that I'm complaining." John laughed again, pulling two glasses from the cabinet. 

Dave swallowed. "That was pretty obvious but whatever. We going to your bed?" 

John eyed him suspiciously, ignoring the first comment. "Are you just here to have sex with me? Uncool. You're not living up to the smoothness you keep saying I should expect from a Strider at all!" 

"Yeah, yeah, that's it. I'm DTF like a lonely housewife with a pool boy fetish." 

John's grin twisted down, but he shrugged. Dave was never much of a romancer, and it normally didn't bother John in the slightest. He just sensed something was off. Maybe Dave needed a pick-me-up fuck or something equally lame. He'd bother Dave about it after his boyfriend was feeling better. 

John led the way to his room, turning the light on and flopping back on his mattress. "Okay, do your thing." He wiggled his eyebrows a few times, and Dave rolled his eyes, his hands shaking a little. 

Dave crawled onto John's lap and kissed him, lacing his fingers through the other's hair and pulling at it. When they seperated to breathe, Dave watched John's eyes, bright and joyful, half lidded. 

"What are you looking at, doofus?" John asked, his lips twitching up at the corners. He leant forward to press them against Dave's again briefly before letting him answer. 

"Just staring into your soul. Eyes are a gateway and whatever." Dave put his hands over John's shoulder and pushed at him until John layed back, moving his lips down to the other boy's throat and pecking at it until John sighed. 

"I want to tie you up." He whispered against John's skin, and the other boy laughed a little, the noise vibrating against Dave's lips.

"Is that why you're acting like such a weirdo? Could've just asked." 

Dave fell sideways, his bony shoulder resting on John's outstretched arm. "I just did ask you. Don't tell me you're going deaf. I'll have to run and google how to sign 'suck my dick' so this night isn't completely wasted." 

"You can, it's whatever." 

Dave sat up, looking at John's face. There was something pained in his the blonde's eyes, something odd. 

John frowned. "Same safe word, okay?" 

Dave nodded, reaching for the drawer where John kept a pair of handcuffs and some condoms. He pulled out the handcuffs with shivering hands, almost dropping them on the floor, before snapping one shut on John's offered wrist. "You won't need a safeword." He said breathily.

John scoffed, "Duh," and stretched out so his hands could be attached to the headboard. He trusted Dave, and Dave had trusted him with this sort of vulnerability tons of times. There was no reason not to trust him.

"I can't handle you, John." Dave said as he clasped the second cuff. "I'm fucking sick of forcing myself on you. Got my shitty old toothbrush taking up space in your bathroom and my shitty self taking up space on your fucking couch like 24/7. It's not even cool. Pretty clear you don't want me around. I'm so selfish and you just let it happen like a periwinkle bendy straw." 

John's mouth fell open in surprised at Dave's unexpected confession. "There's plenty of space in my bathroom." He said, "and my couch is made for, like, three people of something."

The blonde shook his head. "I'm like a parasite. You just wish I'd shut up. I fucking love you."

"Woah, no I don't! I mean, sometimes! But not right now. Dave, what's going on? I think I've changed my mind all of a sudden. Let me go. Let's just watch a movie or something. You can sleep on my shoulder and rap about the main character's punchable face." 

Dave moved to straddle John, sitting on his hips as John jangled the handcuffs.

 "Come on, ghostnutbuster." 

The blonde breathed in deeply and shook his head. "I told you you wouldn't fucking need that John, holy shit. You don't fucking get it." His red eyes were widened, his hands pressing against John's collar bones, as Dave looked at his boyfriend. His gorgeous, blue eyed, handsome faced boyfriend. He reached forward to cup John's face, his eyebrows hitching, breathing fast, nostrils starting to flare. "John, you're such a dick." He whispered.

"And you're an asshole. Let me up, Dave."

"Nah." 

John's lips tightened and he drove his knee into Dave's back, pushing the other boy forwards so their noses touched. Dave's eyes flashed, and John felt a spark of fear and sadness shoot through him when he saw their hurt expression. He kneed at Dave's back again, yanking at the cuffs and knitting his eyebrows. 

"You could have just dumped me." Dave hissed, his thumb brushing the bags under John's eyes. "I could handle that just fine. I'm a big boy. I could've handled that." 

"I never wanted to dump you Dave!" John began to feel a bit frantic, his eyes darting around Dave's lightly freckled face, the crack in his lower lips where he'd chewed it, the almost invisible eyelashes. Dave was beautiful, needy, and John adored him. 

"Liar. You hate me, I can see it."

"Where is this coming from!" John asked loudly, lifting his body under Dave's light weight, trying to unseat him. 

Dave sighed and curled his finger at John's tear duct, putting pressure against the other boy's eyeball. He adjusted his weight on his boyfriend's crotch, watching John begin to panic, thrash his head and shout out. 

The black haired boy saw lights and circles of shadow dance in front of him, an ache settling behind his temple. "Dave, what the fuck?" He shouted, looking away from Dave's even mouth and steady expression and hissing, a ringing sound building up in his ears and his boyfriend pressed a little harder. He couldn't look at him, couldn't watch the upset on Dave's face, couldn't believe this threat was real. 

"Don't look at me like that, shit." The blonde's hands were twitching badly, his teeth snapping shut over his own tongue. Dave forced his finger into John's socket, feeling the squelch of blood as it began to leak down John's face like a tear, ignoring his pleads and babbled cries. "Don't look so fucking scared." There was a sharp scent of blood, rusty like old metal. He shifted again in John's lap, tilting and almost falling out of position when John tried to buck him off, driving the digit deeper into his skull in retalition. John cried out brokenly as Dave's fingernail scraped at the optic nerve and scratched at the sensitive organ. Dave pushed another finger into the socket and pulled at the eyeball, blood pouring down John's face in rivulets, his mouth open in a soundless scream, his throat too raw and constricted in pain to make any sound. 

Dave sucked at his own lip, playing with it between his teeth, a small bead gathering there as he put his weight into making sure John didn't throw him off. He gave the eye a final yank, unattaching it completely, and pulled it close to himself to look at. 

It was then that John refound the ability to scream, his throat working to spit out some of the blood that was sliding onto his lips and through them, spluttering and coughing once. He let out several choked sobs of Dave's name, tears falling from the eye he still had, as he watched his boyfriend squish his eye between his slim fingers. 

Revulsion coiled in his stomach, and bile rose up, further irratating his scratched throat. He gasped and choked, a mixture of stomach acid and throw up falling onto his shirt.

Dave put the eyeball down on John's knee, only for the other boy to wiggle and knock it to the floor. The blonde whined, let out a sharp, short scream, and dove for John's other eye, jamming his middle finger right through it. 

John's cries were like static on his ears, grating and nonsensical, and he pushed against John's eye until it was mush in it's socket, before attempting to scoop out the mixture of ruined protein and thick, warm blood. Dave could feel John's knee pounding at his back again, the blows weaker than before and uneffective. He rubbed his messy fingers on John's shirt when he was done, putting his palm momentarily on his lover's chest as it rose and fell unevenly. 

"You just don't fucking get it, John." He mumbled, flipping his hand over to feel the thumping heartbeat with the back. "You're too good for me."

John gasped, and then let out a shaky, frightened noise that sounded like "Dave, Dave." He took a breath, pain still coursing through him like an elecrtic shock. "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay" he repeated, "Dave, Dave, I love you, okay, it's okay, I'll forgive you, I love you, just stop Dave it'll be okay."

The blonde's lips trembled and he pulled his hand back. He waved his head, whispered. "You shouldn't. I'm not worth shit" and reached into the pocket at the front of his jeans. 

John continued to talk to him, the holes in his face pointed at Dave's as though he were really looking at him, dark with fresh blood and gaping, grotesquely wide. His wrists were sore and red from pulling at his restraints, and his body felt constricted and weak. "Please, I promise you're worth everything, you're so deserving shit oh my god, I should've told you before but Dave it's okay it's okay you're amazing please." He felt the press of something cold at his throat, one of the pocketknifes Dave kept hidden on his person at all times. Dave was paranoid, unstable, oh my god. John would have wept. 

Dave pushed at the handle of the blade, watching it tuck itself under John's skin, redness quickly pooling around it. He pushed at the handle, trying to force it through John's muscle and spinal cord. Blood spurted from the wound in streamers, wetting Dave's face and splattering in his hair, and he began to sweat, putting all his weight into pushing the blade deeper into the tissue. He twisted the knife it so the tip stabbed downwards towards John's throat, sawing awkwardly and labouring it through as John choked on the blood that rose into his mouth and dripped out of his lips.

Slowly and deliberately, Dave cut into John's neck. It wasn't long before John's noises stopped, but Dave continued to botch at the haggered entrance wound, slicing through skin and arteries until John's head hung by only a sliver of flesh. Dave slit it, exhausted, his fingers soaked and slippery, crouching in a pool of blood, and then lifted John's head. It looked nothing like the John he'd dated for months. The skin was so red, the lips spread open and in tatters where John had biten himself in pain, the holes were John's eyes once were so wide and almost black.

His boyfriend's body was drenched in sick, blood, and the skin around it's neck was tattered, messy and leeching plasma. It's wrists were still bound to the headboard, hands limp, ringed in red. A small stream of blood had dripped where John had pulled hard enough to tear his own flesh. 

Dave took the knife from where he'd dropped it next to John's lifeless body and touched it to his lower eyelid, crying as he looked at John's shocked expression and slackened jaw. His breathing deepened, and he pulled back and forth several times before burrying it into his socket, still wet and dirty from sawing through John. He let out a cry and slumped forward, yanking it out again, blood blinding him. "John." He sobbed. "Don't look at me, you asshole." 

He lifted the knife again, turning away to stare at John's wall. Striped wallpaper. Periwinkle blue and eggshell white. Dave rested a moment, breathing heavily, before he swung himself off of John's still body and sat next to it, legs hanging of the bed. He put John's severed head in his lap, bent double over it, smiling softly, blood dripping over his nose and down his flushed cheeks. His fingers carded through the thick, dark hair, combing out the clotting blood, and he brushed his thumb under one of John's eye sockets, smearing the gore across the wet cheek. 

The blonde boy curled into himself, pressed his nose against his boyfriend's, tilted his head, and kissed him lightly and lovingly.


End file.
